of Barnes, during five rainy days.”  The author is a shrewd, clever fellow, who loves a little raillery on the follies of the day, and joins with our friend, Popanilla in deploring the present artificial state of society; therefore, suppose we give a few flying extracts from his tour, premising that the good people of the little villages through which he passed, are not aware of what good things he has said of them; for his little book would suit every parlour window from Hyde Park Corner to Barnes.

Brentford.

The ancient and nearly deserted barony of Brentford still contains, in its monuments and antiquities, vestiges of former splendour.  The horse-trough opposite the “Bell and Feathers” is to the antiquarian a most particularly interesting morceau; the verdure of age has defaced it in part, but enough still remains to prove that our ancestors had made no mean proficiency in the rustic style of architecture.  The reservoir, which contains the sparkling element so grateful to that noble animal, is modelled from the celebrated sarcophagus in the British Museum; and the posts which support it are evidently Doric.  On the outside of it are several nearly obliterated specimens of carving, as well as drawings in chalk.

Nearly parallel with the horse-trough, as you go down “Maud’s Rents,” is that useful, and indeed indispensible, triumph of hydraulics, the pump.  The taste and science displayed in its execution do credit to the engineer; and the soil in which it is imbedded, being argillaceous, partially encrusted with strontian, reflects equal honour on his geological attainments.  This pump, which you approach by three steps, is perpendicular, and of an elegant appearance; and forms the chief ornament of the “Rents.”  The handle is of wrought iron, highly polished; the snout copper, studded with hobnails.  It is neatly coated with white paint, and bears on its front the following inscription, which I have copied for the gratification of the curious in antiquarian research.

This Pump was erected, and Well sunk, A.D. 1824, from the proceeds of a Charity Sermon, preached in the Parish Church of this Parish, by his Grace the Bishop of Bath and Wells. * * * Peter Broddupp, Overseer, Slingsby Stygle, and John Moles, Churchwardens. * * * N.B.  Whoever washes Fish at this Pump will be prosecuted.

I cannot take leave of this interesting town without noticing the church.  It is surmounted by a neat steeple, cut in wood, in the pointed style of architecture; on the top of which is a goodly key, to indicate the wind,—­which, the inhabitants remark, has blown due south for the last ten years.  The porch, which is a curious specimen of the Maeso-Gothic, is rather hurt by the simplicity of the scrapers, which, being merely segments of iron hoops, do not harmonize with the otherwise elaborate approach.

Tossbury.

The demesne of Tossbury (by Camden written Tossbery) was anciently a grant in feoffment to the College of Physicians by King John.  On the spot now occupied by the burial grounds formerly stood their college; and here they flourished until the population, originally abundant, diminished so alarmingly, as to induce them to remove to Warwick Lane.